Destiny Awaits
by Channel42
Summary: In the final year of Amenhotep's reign, Rapses contemplates his fate as Pharaoh.


**Destiny Awaits**

* * *

Summary: In the final year of Amenhotep's reign, a seventeen year-old Rapses contemplates his fate as Pharaoh.

Background: Takes place in an alternative reality where Rapses and his guardians survive the battle with Scarab and continue to live out their lives in ancient Egypt. Kimas' father was slain as a treacherous accomplice to Scarab, leaving him orphaned, but later taken in and raised by his uncle Ja-Kal. Follows _Common Ground _and _Anomaly_.

Hints of Rapses/Kimas of slash.

Disclaimer: For fiction purposes only.

* * *

Rapses knelt solemnly before the massive throne of the Pharaoh. The room was dark and silent, the moonlight shining through the tall stone pillars illuminating the shadows.

The Prince was alone. His head bowed, posture still, a brooding air surrounding him. His eyes were closed, mind lost in thought.

Far in the southern wing lay his father on his deathbed.

This is what Rapses knew, not what he had been told. The healers, his guardians, even his closest servants reassured him that the great Pharaoh Amenhotep would overcome the sickness, his will to live greater than any force nature could strike at him. Yet the pain that twisted in his mother's eyes told a more intimate tale of how his father suffered. It was almost as if he could see the timeline in her face, every breath his father struggled to take creating a new line of stress beneath her aging emerald eyes.

Rapses should be kneeling before that bed, holding his father's hand, caring tenderly to his needs as his father had done so many times for him. Or at the temple, praying to Aten for his father to heal, so that he may return to his place as ruler over the kingdom.

His instinct never lied, and this time Rapses knew that there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do. Soon his father would past beyond the Western Gate, his presence over time becoming merely a memory in the people who loved him so.

Soon, he would face the task of filling his father's footsteps. He squeezed his eyes tighter, the muscles in his brow balling together above the bridge of his nose.

In all his seventeen years, Rapses knew this day would come. And in the journey that led him to this very position, before an empty throne that would sooner than later be his, his heart had filled with dread and doubt of his abilities to become what his destiny prophesied.

A voice inside told him that this was not meant to be.

An implausible prophecy that spoke of another time where he would never see this day. Where perhaps he should not have seen the many days past.

It did not feel right. And yet, here he was.

Rapses placed his hand over the golden amulet, the eye of Ra burning beneath his palm. His fingertips grazed the carvings of his father's name, and his right below. It was a calming motion, something that reminded him of who he was beneath the royal garb.

He was a Prince to all, but to a few simply Rapses. The clever, conniving, faithful, and loyal child who had cheated death, suffered greatly at hands of a powerful sorcerer, and still managed to remain true to his character. He knew who Prince Rapses was without a sliver of doubt.

It was the Pharaoh Rapses who terrified him.

* * *

In the early hours of the following day, Amenhotep passed away.

It was a feigned shock to the healers, who stood at the head of the bed offering a mixture of condolences and apologies. The words fell on deaf ears as the Queen was comforted by her hand-maiden, who sat besides her and pulled her shaking body into a tight embrace. The second wife, Kiya, stood nearby, her head bowed as silent tears ran down her cheeks. Two young children, a boy and girl, stood at their mother's feet looking somberly from redden eyes as the high priest spoke words of passing from his perch among the healers.

At the tail of the Pharaoh's bed stood an assembly of viziers, servants who knelt below them, and the royal guardians in formation; Nefer-tina*, Rath, and Armon lined side-by-side, their weapons exposed but not raised. Ja-Kal stood before them, his eyes looking straight ahead yet deliberately unseeing of the still body beneath the soft linen sheets. His bow and arrow quivered ever so slightly in his iron grip, emotions running through his core for the one he had dedicated so much of his life to, and had nearly given it to protect his royal line. The sound of soft footsteps alerted his attention. His fingers tensed unconsciously around his bow, eyes shifting to the threshold where seemingly everyone else had turned their attention.

Prince Rapses halted his steps just beyond entering the grand quarters, his gaze acknowledging no one in particular, but focusing with tremendous unease on the motionless figure of his father. Ja-Kal knew the Prince better than many, even his blood kin though he would never admit to the fact. The guardian could see the near-invisible lines of tension around the Prince's face, his brilliant green eyes masking an array of emotions. Ja-Kal then caught the eyes of his nephew Kimas, who stood besides the Prince, and met his gaze steadily in understanding.

The Queen rose from the edge of the bed to go to her son, enveloping him in a fierce embrace, choked sobs pouring from her sore throat. Rapses held his mother, rubbing her back and shoulders comfortingly but offering no words of consolation.

Kimas moved to stand besides his uncle as the Prince led his mother back to Amenhotep's bedside, easing her into the hands of her maiden. He beckoned silently for a girl servant, asked her to bring some water and bread for his mother, and as the girl swiftly made for the task the Prince moved to kneel gracefully by his father's side.

The room suddenly seemed to calm. The healers quenched their chatter, the guards and servants halted their shifting feet, and the cries and silent sobbing lessened as all eyes turned towards the bedside.

Rapses fingered the delicate robe that adorned his father's body. The Pharaoh's eyes were closed and his face seemed nearly peaceful, but the chill that touched upon Rapses as his fingers caught his father's stiff hands, clasping them in his own, warmer ones, defied the possibility that his father was simply asleep.

In a way, Rapses supposed he was just sleeping, waiting to be awoken by the gods of the afterlife, for his spirit to cross over and live eternally among the Pharaoh's past. But in his reality, his father was gone forever, never to return to him whole and bursting with life. He wanted nothing more than to crawl onto the bed and curl besides his father, like the child who still lived somewhere deep within him.

He could have easily ordered everyone out of the room, providing him some privacy to collapse on top of his father and wail with unrepressed grief and desperation, begging for his father to open his eyes. _Don't go, abba, please don't leave me again!_

He wanted many things, but selfishness he could not command. His grief was no more important than the others who surrounded him.

His stomach twisted as he caressed his father's cold hands. He touched his lips gently upon the calloused knuckles, lingering as if a small part of him still refused to let go, then silently lowered the hands back down, placing them gently across his father's torso. Rapses took a breath, then rose lightly to his feet and faced the priest, who eyed him knowingly.

The priest nodded his head once, his stoic presence commanding attention, though not much commanding was needed as every member in the room was frozen in their place, watching with a mixture of awe and shock.

"It is time," the priest said, and summoned Amenhotep's vizier** to him.

Bakari maneuvered his tall form between observant bodies to stand before Rapses. He met the eyes of the Prince, his own eyes swarming with nervousness, yet there was a kindness in the deep brown orbs.

The Queen had silently risen from her position on the floor and now stood silently behind her son. She knew what was to come, and could not suppress the feeling of pride and fear that swam through her heart. She was not yet ready to face this moment.

"Would the royal guardians come to stand by their master," Bakari spoke. Ja-Kal led the guardians to close in the tiny space around the Prince and his mother. Rapses glanced at them, his expression softening to acknowledge their presence before focusing back on Bakari as the vizier ordered the remaining witnesses to rise.

"Prince Rapses, son of the Pharaoh Amenhotep III and Grand Queen Nefertiti, rulers of upper and lower Egypt. From this moment forth, do you release your duties as Prince and assume the crown of Pharaoh, to rule over the House and peoples of the Egyptian kingdom, and to hold the title of the living Horus?"

"Yes," he said softly, the words slipping easily even though his mind seemed to be in another place and time.

"Please remove your amulet, _inpu_," Bakari whispered, nearly earning a small grin from Rapses but his stomach contorted violently as he pulled the talisman from around his neck. His fingers shook slightly as he held the amulet, contemplating it for the last time, then held it out for Bakari to place on the small bedside table.

Bakari replaced the too-familiar amulet with one that had lain against his father mere moments before. It was of similar built, but weighed heavier and adorned fanciful scripts and jewels. The eye of Ra displayed regally on the smooth surface, and the amulet seemed to glow against Rapses' chest. As Bakari finished placing the amulet over his neck, he kissed each cheek lightly, a symbol of his eternal loyalty to the young man before him.

Bakari then held the double crown that had adorned Amenhotep's brow for so many years, raised it high, and secured it onto Rapses' head. Rapses looked into Bakari's eyes and found his gaze shimmering in the dim light.

"Hail Rapses, crowned Pharaoh and Lord of all Egypt!"

Bakari bowed low and dropped to his knees. The rest followed suit, the soft tap of skin on marble and the murmurs of praise echoing around him. His mother touched his shoulder lightly, squeezing the taunt muscle before dropping to one knee behind him respectfully.

Rapses watched blankly as they knelt before him. No longer a Prince, but Pharaoh. The feeling that something wasn't quite right came back to him suddenly, nearly overwhelming him with a sense of strange vertigo. His eyes shifted and came to land on his father, still lying ever so still, his body seeming to drown among the sheets. He felt like he was waking from a trance, everything becoming clear and real all at once. He stared into the face of his deceased father and a shiver ran down his spine.

His lips parted slightly, knowing he was supposed to speak in this moment, but his voice refused to cooperate. He needed space, air, anything to calm the nerves that threatened to overcome him. His legs obeyed faster than his brain, moving swiftly between the still-knelt bodies, each face looking up to peer questionably at their newly crowned king. His body was trembling visibly now as he made his way out of the grand quarters and through the secret exit that lead out into the royal gardens.

He crouched behind a group of bushes, his stomach lurching and releasing all of its contents. His chest burned, struggling to take in labored breaths as the bile turned into dry heaves. It was all he could do to hide his face behind trembling hands as he sobbed freely.

* * *

Rapses found himself again before the Pharaoh's throne, legs crossed, a contemplative expression gracing his chiseled face. The pain of his father's death was still too fresh. He knew logically that the feeling would lessen over time, but in this moment it took much of his concentration to quell the feeling of sadness that washed over him in waves.

The chair stood before him, almost mockingly as if the person who watched it was not worthy of its presence. He was Pharaoh now, and yet Rapses questioned whether he was indeed worthy of the title. His mind tugged at the notion, increasing doubts circulating through his thoughts. The feeling that something was very out of place had not disappeared, and Rapses couldn't help but wonder how he came to be sitting at this spot, silently questioning the very symbol that should feel nothing less than natural, but was as foreign as the notion of horseless chariots.

A faint ache started at his temples and he rubbed the skin gently, the urge to knock the tall crown from his head growing in his frustration. He barely noticed the presence of another until the figure knelt silently besides him, his head bowed low, eyes on the floor in as respectful a pose as he could muster.

"What now?" Rapses asked aloud, though he knew with a sinking feeling that no answer would come. At least, not from his companion, the rhetoric of a Pharaoh to grand to be humored by his subordinate. He suppressed a groan, his eyes focusing on his father's – now his own– seat.

"I used to have these dreams of a strange, distant land," Rapses spoke softly, again to no one in particular though his companion listened attentively.

"A land with fire-less light, and tall buildings as clear as water. Structures as wide as the pyramids that flew in the air, and the chariots – horseless- and so very powerful."

Rapses rose to his feet, approaching the throne with hesitation. His fingers grazed the hieroglyphic carvings that outlined the stone armrests.

"It was so very strange, but I was not afraid. I understood things, spoke a language that I'd never heard before, answered to names that sounded utterly ridiculous, but felt normal. It was almost as if I were home, but it wasn't home."

"I would wake up in my own bed feeling dizzy each time. As I grew older, the dreams became more frequent. I remember having them nearly every night when I was about twelve, and each time the dreams became more tangible, more real."

"I would tell my mother, my guardians, and they deem it simply my imagination. I supposed it sounded rather insane," Rapses faint smile that had formed in recollection turned into a sudden frown, anxiety gathering in his green eyes.

"After the...incident, the dreams turned to nightmares. I was fighting something that I could not see, words that commanded things not of my nature and yet spoke clearly in my voice. Images of death and torment of those I hold so dear," he shuttered, hesitantly evoking the suppressed memories.

"I was sure they would destroy me. I couldn't determine what was real, and I was haunted for so many years. They still haunt me, the dreams, but I control them now. It took me a long time, but I know now that they can only harm me if I allow them to."

Rapses decided not to mention the insomnia, though he suspected that Kimas probably already knew. Rapses sighed, his face tensing. He turned to face Kimas, who still knelt before him but was now regarding him pensively.

"What if I..." Rapses begin, his fear intensifying at the reality that he was not yet ready to face. The unnerving feeling of displacement hit him, flipping his world upside down. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words, yet he knew in his sinking heart that he should have died that eve in the desert. But somehow the path had change, and what should have been never came to pass. It felt wrong and yet so very right.

Kimas stood and moved to stand before Rapses. He studied the younger man, similar heights allowing him to meet the tortured eyes of his superior. He wasn't one of many words; he gained understanding through vigilance, believing that his actions spoke greater truths.

He caught Rapses' face between his hands, and softly pressed his lips against each cheek.

"This is where you belong," Kimas spoke softly, capturing Rapses' gaze in his own, stronger one. "And I give my faith and my life to serve only you Rapses, my Lord, my Pharaoh."

Rapses pulled Kimas close to him. He could mentally hear the scolding for such a motion unfitting of his station, but he could have cared less as he embraced his companion tightly, burrowing his face into the soft neckline. And Kimas held him, caressing his fingers through the soft strands of brown hair, marveling of how he had come to care so deeply for the younger man, how he so loved his companion that he would blindly follow Rapses to the very brink of death if only to take the fall in his place.

Rapses pulled away slightly, lifting his head to place a kiss on Kimas' brow in gratitude and acceptance. They broke apart, and Rapses moved to seat himself majestically on the throne. Kimas stood besides him on the left, the space reserved for the high guardians, and placed a steady hand on the Pharaoh's shoulder.

As they watched the sun fade beneath the horizon, the orange hues dancing ethereally through the grand room, the Pharaoh found his destiny awaiting before him.

The End

* * *

A/N: In my research for this story (thanks Google and Wikipedia), I found that Amenhotep III was a rather progressive ruler who attempted to change some of the more traditional practices in Egypt, most notably the transformation from polytheism to worshiping a single god (Aten). Amenhotep also had two wives –his Grand Queen Nefertiti and a second wife Kiya – as well as a few children by both. In Mummies Alive!, Rapses' mother was never given a name, so I gave her one here. I am also not sure if MA!Amenhotep was based on Amenhotep III (seeing as there are multiple rulers by that name) so I took liberty with this cannon loophole.

*In this universe, I found it only logical that Nefter-tina's true identity would be discovered at some point during her post-battle life. As I previously stated, Amenhotep was a rather progressive ruler, and I assumed that he granted Nefer-tina her freedom in gratitude for protecting his son, hence the reason why she is referred to here by her given name instead of her 'male' pseudonym Nefer.

**I gave Amenhotep another vizier to replace Scarab because it seemed fitting. I also know very little about the official practices of Egyptian crowning, and came to the conclusion that the next in line after the Prince would be the one to crown. In the MA! verse, Scarab was second in line to the crown, which is why he killed Rapses in the first place. So I assumed that the vizier would come before the Queen and Rapses' fictitious half-brother (who is still a child), and would be given the task of performing the crowning. Bakari's name in Egyptian means 'noble oath'.

Other Egyptian Vocab:

_Abba_ –endearing word for father

_Inpu_ – royal child

Hope you enjoyed :)


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